


Look at You That Way

by Leviathan0999



Category: Alloy's "Midnight Confessions" Universe, Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: An outtake from Alloy's "Midnight Confessions" universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-26
Updated: 2009-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 07:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviathan0999/pseuds/Leviathan0999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Harry is having trouble thinking about his friends</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at You That Way

**Author's Note:**

> _In early 2005, [Alloy](alloy_.livejournal.com) allowed me to read a couple of upcoming chapters in his "[Midnight Confessions](http://www.simplyundeniable.com/viewstory.php?sid=2076)" canon, and I was really intrigued by a scene between Harry and Ron, talking about how Harry seemed suddenly to have noticed something._
> 
> I discussed it with Marc via IM, and he gave me kind permission to write the scene I'd imagined spinning off from his, and publish the two together as a collaboration.
> 
> I finished mine July 31st, 2007, having been reminded by Alloy's LJ post that day about whether to continue with his yet-unseen "[](http:)
> 
> So, without further ado, I give you...

“**Look at You That Way”**

By **Alloy** and **Leviathan**

_An Out-take from **Alloy**’s “Midnight Confessions” Universe._

They were driving through the village when Hermione suddenly slowed and parked the car outside the grocery store. “I just need to get something in here.” She said as she climbed out of the car. Harry pushed the seat forward and climbed out after her even as Ron climbed out his door.

“I don’t need an escort boys.”

“Luv?” Ron said.

“I’ll be okay Ron.”

Harry watched as Hermione made her way into the store.  He turned and found Ron staring at him.

“Why you looking at her like that mate?”

“Like what?” Harry said.

“Like she’s a girl.”  Ron gestured in the direction of the store. “You’ve never looked at Hermione like she was a girl. You’ve always looked at her like – like I look at Gin. Then yesterday…” Ron let his voice trail off.

“She’s changed.” Harry said. “She’s sexy.”

“She’s also married mate.”

“I know. I know. Ginny says she’s being sexy for you, because you’re married now and she knows you love her for her and not for her…um…tits or something.” Harry met Ron’s eye. “I’m just not used to it that’s all.”

“It’s okay to think my wife’s sexy Harry. I think she’s bloody sexy too.” Ron turned back toward store scanning the exit for signs of Hermione. “If it makes you feel any better mate, she thinks you have the second best bum in Hogwarts.”

“Only the second.”

“Sorry you’re not in my league mate.” Ron chuckled, then grew more serious. “It would also make me feel better if you stopped looking at her like that.”

 

“Harry....” Hermione seemed hesitant as she looked at him across the fire. Ron would be down at the lake for another half-hour or so. He was always so picky about his warming charms at bath-time. _Bath-time._ _Hermione's back, the curve of her spine elegant, glistening with water flowing from it as Harry wheels quickly and runs back up the path, as quietly as he can, his face burning._  “Are you angry with me?”

“Uh... No, Hermione, no, I'm not angry with you. Why would I be angry with you?”

She stood and moved around the fire to squat down before him. Harry resisted a desperate urge to sidle around, keeping the flames safely between them. _Water running down her spine, its flow curving to course down toward the center, as the prominences of her buttocks rise from the rolling plains of her back._

Harry closed his eyes, shaking his head rapidly. When he opened them again, he found he was staring into hers, a deep, rich brown, so warm and alive, a few inches away.

“You're avoiding me, Harry.” Hermione's tone was very firm, brooking no argument, but underlying was a tremor.

“No, I'm not,” said Harry, scooting back away from her. “I'm really not. Honestly.”

The sound she made as she dropped to land on her bottom on the warm earth seemed equal parts laughter and sob. “Of _course_ you're not, Harry! Why, just _look_ at you!” She gestured toward his bum, as he dragged it across the ground away from her. “How _stupid_ of me!”

“Oh, fuck, Hermione, you know you're anything but stupid! You _know_ that!”

Her eyes flashed. “Well, I bloody well wish _you_ did!” she cried, and Harry's eyes widened at the oath. “You talk about respecting my intelligence, and then expect me to buy tosh like you're not avoiding me!”

“I'm _not!_”

“_Bollocks,_ Harry!” Her anger confused him, frightened him a little. These hard-spat words, the sparks flaring in her eyes.... He was used to seeing her like this with Ron -- he'd spent six years with them, after all -- but when she turned it toward him, he found it overwhelming, scary...and something more. A part of him he didn't like to acknowledge saw the fire in her, and nodded slowly, knowing what Ron saw in these moments. “You don't spend time with me, you won't talk to me, you barely _look_ at me! You're my _friend_, Harry! You owe it to me to at least tell me what's wrong, what I've _done!_”

“You haven't done anything, Hermione.” _Except walk with your hips swinging just that little bit more, except stretch with the unconscious comfort of a cat, shaking your hair out behind you_. “Nothing's wrong.” _Except that I can't just look at you and see 'Friend' any more, genderless and childish. Except that I look at you now and see a woman._

He shook his head at himself. _Get a grip, for Godric's sake! It's not like it's a crisis or anything. She's still Hermione._

She was watching him with bright, interested eyes, intelligent and warm, taking him in. “It’s Ron,” she said suddenly. “It is, isn’t it?”

Harry’s face colored.

“I _knew_ it! I _told_ him that he wasn’t to neglect you just because we’re married now! Harry, I promise, you’re not losing Ron to me, I’m not taking him away from you—”

Harry burst into laughter, and Hermione stilled, staring at him, her dark brows angled down over warm brown eyes, that “Hermione Works A Puzzle” line vertical between them.

Harry stared for a moment, just enjoying the fierce intelligence at work before his survival instincts reminded him that _he_ was the puzzle she was working out—Her eyes widened, and Harry winced. _Too late!_

“What did he say to you, Harry?” Her voice was angry now, but not with him. Selling his friend down the river with his wife didn’t seem to Harry like a good solution…. But neither did the bollocking he was fairly sure she was going to give him.

“I…” Harry looked desperately about, as if he were hoping to see an Owl from Godric Gryffindor, with advice on how to deal with this. “It’s nothing, Hermione, really, I just…”

“Harry.” Her voice was low and firm. “What. Did. He. Say?”

Harry buried his face in his hands and answered.

When he looked up Hermione was staring at him, her expression and body language speaking so loudly that she didn’t even bother to say the words: _Nice try. Now, try again so I can hear you._

“Ron asked me to— To, er, be careful how I look at you.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open. “He asked you _what?_”

“To, er… Well, really, more, _not_ to, well, that is…” Harry drew in a deep breath. “You’re a _girl_, Hermione!”

Hermione just stared at him. “Did this come as some sort of shock to you?”

“No. Yes! No!” Harry gulped. “Well, the sexy part did…”

“It’s your decisiveness I admi—” Hermione interrupted herself as Harry’s words sunk in. “What?”

Harry looked unhappily at the ground. “I said—”

“I heard you, Harry.” Hermione’s voice was soft, gentle. “I’m sexy?”

Harry nodded miserably, his face bright red.

“Harry… Why are you upset about that? You’re not— You’re not desperately in love with me, and heartbroken that I married Ron!”

“No!” Harry cried, shaking his head vehemently. “No, not that, nothing like that, Godric! I’m in love with Ginny, Hermione. You know that.”

“What’s the problem, then?” Hermione seemed baffled.

“Ron noticed. He noticed me looking at you like—Well, like you’re sexy. He—”

Hermione reddened. “Oh, that jealous idiot! Doesn’t he—”

“No, no,” said Harry, quickly. “He wasn’t jealous, wasn’t mad or anything. I think he was… _Protective_, I guess, really.”

“Protecting me from _what_, exactly? From _you?_”

Harry shook his head, wondering if his face would ever regain its normal temperature.

“Harry, honestly. I love you. I trust you. It’s not like you’re sneaking down to the lake, watching me bathe—”

Harry felt the temperature in his face rise about ten degrees, and Hermione’s eyes widened.

“You _did not!_”

“No, no, not on purpose! I didn’t sneak, I just—”

Hermione was reddening now, as well, looking at the ground. Her voice was barely a breath. “What did you see, Harry?”

“Your back,” he said. “That’s all, just your back.” He smiled, a horrible, false, cheery smile. “It’s, er… It’s quite nice actually. Elegant.”

Hermione’s face rose to Harry’s, eyes bright, a kind of surprised smile on her lips. “Why—Why, thank you, Harry.”

Harry looked down again. “I’m sorry, Hermione. God, it’s going to get all weird now.”

Hermione laughed. “Why would you think that? Did it get all weird when I told you I was attracted to you?”

Harry stared at her, mouth open. “You never!”

“Honestly, Harry! You’re just thick as a brick, aren’t you? _Quite frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable! You’re brave and heroic and the whole wizarding world knows it, and you’re so tall now, too…_”

“You were talking about all those silly girls! Romilda Vane and them.”

Hermione smiled fondly at him. “If you ever _do_ get a clue, Harry, be sure and hide it. You being this clueless is terribly sexy, somehow. Like it would be such fun to teach you…”

Harry’s eyes had taken on the dimensions of Dobby’s. “_Hermione!_”

“Yes, Harry, I find you sexy. Very sexy. Does that make me some sort of a scarlet woman?”

“I…” Harry shook his head. “I guess not.”

“Of _course_ not! Harry, we’re heterosexual teenagers of the opposite sex who spend huge amounts of time in close proximity. Of _course_ there’s some underlying attraction. We wouldn’t be human if there wasn’t.”

“Well… Ron just told me he’d feel better about it if I didn’t look at you that way.”

Hermione looked at him for a long moment. “I think you ought to discuss this with Ron again, then. If he _is_ feeling jealous, or threatened or something—Well, you want to be a good friend, don’t you? You want to respect his feelings. But, Harry, _I_ don’t mind. I’m with Ron. I _love_ Ron. I’m so, so happy to be his wife, and I’d never dishonour that, and I know you know that… But, Harry… A girl likes to feel pretty. Feel… Sexy. I know you Harry, and I trust you.” Her smile went from fond to wicked. “So if you want to keep checking out my arse, well, that’s only fair, isn’t it?”

Harry stared at her as if seeing her, yet again, for the first time. “S—” he began, then swallowed and tried again, blushing furiously through his own cheeky sally. “Second best at Hogwarts, I hear.”

“Bloody hell!” came Ron’s distant voice from the woods. “Buggering roots can’t keep to themselves…”

“Not second,” Hermione told him with a wink, as she started to rise. “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Harry sat back, thunderstuck, as she turned to walk toward the sound of Ron’s voice.

She paused, glanced over her shoulder. “Coming, Harry?” As he clambered to his feet, she paused again, glanced over her shoulder at him, and, with a cheeky wink, gave her hips a quick, saucy shake.

Then she laughed, a bright, musical sound, and marched off toward her husband, Harry’s best friend.

**The End**


End file.
